


Baby Crime Han's Big Adventure

by glompcat



Series: Han Solo, Timetraveler [1]
Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Most Wanted - Rae Carson
Genre: Gen, Pre-Solo, Time Travel, adding tags and characters as this goes on, tagging relationships in a time travel fic is harrrrrrrrrd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-06-21 17:31:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15562851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glompcat/pseuds/glompcat
Summary: Sometimes when eating the sort of things the Scumrats were accustomed to - mainly rats or dog biscuits - Han would shut his eyes and just picture how one day he and Qi’ra would leave Corellia. Get their hands on a ship, and never look back.Opening his eyes to find himself actually in space, and decades in the future at that? Not what he expected. Not what he expected at all.





	1. The Eravana Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a collection of short fics I've been working on about Han at various points in his life traveling to various other parts of his life. It grew out of a conversation I was having with [AbsolXGuardian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/absolxguardian), and that conversation is also the origin of the title.
> 
> None of the various stories in this collection are even the slightest bit serious, they're just a fun thing I work on when I need some stress relief. 
> 
> I wasn't really sure if I'd post any of them, as they've mainly just been for my own amusement, but after a friend (tumblr user tabaaha) looked what I'd been writing over and betaed it, I felt like maybe it was time to share some of this nonsense with all of you.
> 
> I've been writing these out of order, skipping about to wherever the urge to write leads me, so I can't promise I'll have an update with chapter two (or three or four etc) ready in a timely manner (or before I start posting parts of any of the other ones I am working on) but I hope you enjoy the start to this one!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Han is a time traveler. He is traveling from when he was a teenager, before Solo even started, to the time of TFA. That means he is coming from the very very best period in his first relationship, and entering a time period where his older self is married to someone else.
> 
> This is not a shippy story. It's a gen story. I want to explore Han as a character and have fun with him. Any shippy stuff is incidental and is not the main focus of the plot at all. That said there are all sorts of mentions of Han and Qi'ra's relationship, as well as Han and Leia's marriage.
> 
> Just wanted to make that clear in case any of that is a deal breaker for you.
> 
> This story contains major spoilers for the book _Most Wanted_ by Rae Carson, which is set a few months before the opening scene of _Solo_.

Not too bad a day, if Han said so himself. He’d caught a rat, and brought it by Old Man Powlo’s place to split. Honestly, it seemed like a lot, but he owed the guy. Hell, he owed the guy for the laugh he’d gotten when Powlo’d called Qi’ra ugly alone, much less everything else the weird old alien had done.

“Han, friend,” Pawlo said, mouth full of rat, “is’good.”

“Yeah,” Han responded. “Real good.”

Sometimes when eating food like this, Han would shut his eyes and just picture how one day he and Qi’ra would be out of this place for good. Get their hands on a ship, and never look back. He’d never even gotten a good look at the stars before in his life. The thick smog of Coronet’s industries blocked all light from the sky, so there was no sign of the stars even when he was sent on tasks outside the sewers. But one day, he’d be living among that imagined splendor, and what could possibly be better than that?

Somehow that thought always seemed to make his food taste better. He wasn’t sure how that trick worked, but it did and that suited him just fine. The more he slipped into fantasizing as he ate, the better the food tasted.

Especially when he imagined he was actually eating at one of the fancy restaurants they had up on the street level of the city. He’d heard that there were even people at those places who’d send food back if it wasn’t hot enough or too hot or who knows why. Han’d never turned a meal down before and he no intention of ever doing so, but wouldn’t it just be wild to one day be _able_ to? To be able to eat something other than rats or dog food, and to be _picky_ about it. He squeezed his eyes tight, and thought about it, flying across the galaxy as he pleased, and eating real food.

Han swallowed his mouthful, went to take another bite but… something caught his attention. The _smell_ was gone. Han may be used to the smells of the sewers, but he still noticed them, and the smell was definitely gone. His eyes flew open and... wait… this wasn’t old man Powlo’s. What the krizz was going on here?

Looking around frantically, Han found himself in an empty room. He stood quickly, feeling dizzy and disoriented. Was it just him or did the floor seem further down than it normally did? The room’s proper occupant had left a huge plate of food on the table. Nicer food than anything Han’d had to eat, at least since his parents died. No way anyone would just abandon food like that. Whoever it was, they must have left here in a hurry. Well, their loss. Han got to work demolishing the food, looking around the strange room he found himself in as he ate. All told the room was pretty empty. Lots of clothes scattered all over. There was a bed in the corner, nicer than most anywhere Han’d ever slept, except for that one time on the Engineer's ship of course. It had a blanket, and pillows, and a real mattress. All of the works, all at once.

There was a banging noise at the door, and someone shouted in… Was that Shyriiwook? The occupant of this flashy space was a Wookie? No, that made no sense. The food was all wrong for a Wookie’s diet. Under the banging and the Shyriiwook and _everything_ , really, Han heard an odd humming noise, constant like some sort of generator. Or a ship’s engine. Was he on a starship?

He tried to parse out what the Wookie on the other side of the door was saying. He’d only just started to really study Shyriiwook recently, after all that business with the Engineer, so he wasn’t anywhere near fluent. Still, he knew a few words here or there from Wookies he'd delt with over the years while running errands for Lady Proxima. That was how he knew the Wookie on the other side of the door was talking about something to do with… Finding something he’d lost? Huh. He listened for more words he understood, and recognized his name. Whoever it was the Wookie was trying to talk to, they were also named “Han.” That was one hell of a coincidence.

Han moved to open the door and let the Wookie know he had the wrong Han, but something stopped him dead in his tracks. A mirror, positioned right by the door, reflecting a stranger’s face back at him.

No.

Not a stranger’s face, not quite.

It was still his face, but so much older than Han ever expected to be. It was a Force-blessed miracle for a Scumrat to even make it to twenty, which was part of why he and Qi’ra had so desperately wanted that position of Head. It had been the best way increase their odds of making it any longer. At eighteen years of age, Han knew that unless he did something drastic, the end of his life would soon be upon him.

Except apparently not.

The man staring back at him was way past twenty.

He wondered how old he was. He didn’t have much to compare things to to judge his age. Something told him he was older than thirty, or even fourty. Both seemed so impossibly old.

The Wookie bellowed something about the ship again, his voice sounding further away from the door, and Han stepped out of the room and into the hall.

Han vaguely recognized the specs of the ship from when he’d been a toddler and his father was still alive. His dad had taken him on some tours of his work. The man had been so damn proud of that job, and had thought his son would one day follow in his footsteps and work at Corellian Engineering Corps. Han liked to fudge the truth of course, tell people that his dad had told him not to follow in his footsteps and be a pilot instead. He could tell no one ever _really_ believed him when he did, but he felt like the more he told his version of events the more that story supplanted what had actually happened. His dad had been a mean drunk devoid of any sentiment, and the only fragging thing he'd really cared about had been that job. Well that job and the idea that his son would one day work there too and transform into some sort of carbon copy of him. Of course it hadn’t worked out like that, not at all. Han'd do anything to make sure he never became anything like that man.

Still, Han remembered the ship type - Baleen-class bulk freighter made by CEC - well enough to figure out where the cockpit would be.

The Wookie was seated there, gesturing excitedly at another CEC made ship just outside the viewport - a much smaller and intensely beat up YT-1300f. Han may have lived in a sewer and been cut off from Corellia’s industry, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit of offense on the part of his homeworld for just how trashed the thing was. This was what the Wookie was excited about? Could that piece of garbage even have parts worth salvaging?

It didn’t hold his attention that long, honestly. ‘Cause the backdrop of what else was out that window? It was way more appealing than any junker could ever be. Space. Stars. Freedom.

Like the lights of the ships being worked up in Coronet’s sky, just a millionfold over and laid out against a pure black backdrop. He’d imagined this sight more times than he could count, every damn night gazing at a sky full of smog. It wasn't his very first time seeing the stars from in space, of course it wasn't, but it was close, and somehow it exceeded his every last expectation.

The Wookie was still acting all enthused, gesticulating at the ship, so Han groused out a “I see it, I see it!” hoping to get him to shut it. His voice sounded strange, all low and rumbly and old. Stang, what the hell was going on here anyway?

The Wookie had more excited chatter, but Han ignored it, his head hurting from trying to understand a language he still hadn’t fully mastered alongside, well… His confusion with the situation in general.

Not sure he’d be able to understand the answers if he even asked the Wookie any of the questions he had, he declined to comment, just staring at the smaller ship slowly entered the Baleen-class freighter’s hold.

Wait. No way a ship the size of a Baleen had a crew of two. Sure it could be operated with a two person minimum, but these things were intended for at least **_six_ ** for its systems to run smoothly. Where were the others who should be here? Just what kind of jacked-up pirate situation was he a part of?

More importantly, who were they working for? Had Lady Proxima expanded the cartel from a local operation into a galactic one? Had he found a way out, changed his colors, and started running things for some other gang? At least he could rule out joining up with the biggest gang of them all, the Imperials, what with the Wookie there and all. The Empire didn’t tend to take too kindly to the big guy’s kind. Best case, he and Qi’ra had really done it, had gotten out and made it. He wondered where she was, wasn’t like her to just trust the operation to others. He would have thought she’d be in the cockpit being her usually bossy self.

She must be wherever the rest of the crew had gone.

The Wookie left the cockpit, and Han decided to follow him. It wasn’t like there was anyone else around, and being left alone in this strange old body in this weirdly empty ship just didn’t seem right at all. His body ached as he walked, joints he’d never given much thought to before making sure he didn’t forget their presence.

Had he any question about this body being his own, it was that pain that strangely assuaged those worries. Through all the otherwise strange aches, one of them mirrored an injury he’d had in his arm a few years back when tussling with Rebolt. The damn injury had shot pain through him for months after that, Han’d had to work doubly hard to make sure it didn’t impact his usefulness to the White Worms and thus mean his death. He could never forget it, that injury had taught him to be careful and never let himself get hurt like that again. Damn arm was hurting like it had back then, in the exact spot. It was the same injury come back to haunt him, no question about it.

The Wookie asked Han about his blaster, and with a grin Han felt one strapped to his side. He must have gotten pretty high up then. Which, given the age he’d apparently lived to, was no surprise. But still, he’d never been important enough to have a weapon like that before. He had survived by his fists and wits alone for as long as he could remember, it was comforting to know he now could back things up with plasma if need be.

With startling familiarity the Wookie opened the entry hatch of the YT-Freighter, banging at the ship’s side as the ramp lowered, like one who was expecting mechanical trouble and already knew how to deal with it. Had Han not seen the guy scoop the thing out of space just now, he would have thought he owned it.

Cautiously the two of them crept onto the ship, and Han had to wonder - again - where the rest of the hauler’s crew was. Hell, where was the YT’s crew, or was the ship they were hijacking a full-on ghost ship? There was a clang under the floor, as if to answer Han’s internal question. There was someone onboard then.

The Wookie gestured at Han, the fact they’d worked together enough to have a whole unspoken language between them was pretty clear. With one mighty jerk the mangy guy lifted one of the floor panels, revealing the two occupants within.

“Where’s the rest of ya?” Han asked, hopeful that not every ship in the future Han was hallucinating was actually crewed by just two people.

The two crew members - Human, both of them, and around Han’s age (his real age, not the strange older one he now seemed to be) - made all kinds of noise about defending themselves, and being fugitives. They shut up real fast when the Wookie said something to them in Shyriiwook about someone named Chewbacca and there was Han’s name again and something about a _bird_? At the very least, Han learned the big guy’s name out of that. He was sure it would come in handy.

Whatever he said, the pale Human they’d uncovered seemed to understand it, face going wide with shock and awe. “This is the Millennium Falcon!” She exclaimed. “And you’re Han Solo!”

Solo? What the kriff was that? Only name Han had was his first one. If anyone had ever asked him for more than that, he was just Han of the White Worms, or Han the Scumrat.

 _Solo_.

Huh, he almost liked that. It suggested he wasn’t affiliated with anyone, that he was just on his own. There was only one problem though - how could he be Solo if he had Qi’ra by his side? Where the kriff _was_ she?

“Han Solo!” The other Human cried. “The Rebellion General?”

The WHAT now?

As if addressing just how absurd that sounded the first Human scoffed. “No, the smuggler!”

Yeah ok, now that he could see. Getting a ship and making a name for himself moving goods. He always knew he would be an excellent pilot.

Not satisfied merely stating his job, the light-skinned Human continued, starstruck it seemed. “This is the ship that made the Kessel Run in under fourteen parsecs!”

 **_Fourteen_**? Seriously? Kriff he knew he was good, but _that_ good?

Han grinned, chest puffing out, content to absorb this praise.

The Wookie - Chewbacca - gave him a weird look, like he was expecting Han to deny these claims or something. Which, let’s be real, even if they weren’t true he’d happily take credit for them. No shame in gassing up one’s own rep. Things like that could be the difference between starving forgotten in the gutter and moving on up in the ranks.

The other Human, the one who thought Han had been a General of all things (and for a _Rebellion_? A Rebellion against _what_?) turned to them with confusion. “Weren’t you a War Hero?” He asked, and Han had to laugh. Imagine, a gutter trash thief like him, being called a Hero!

“Nah, not me,” he shook his head, certain that no matter how old he’d gotten that would never be true. Although, he didn’t know about the Wookie, did he? Weren’t they supposed to have been warriors or something, way back when? The guy did look upset with Han’s pronouncement, so Han waved a hand in his direction. “He might’ve been a Hero, sure, but not me.”

The Wookie’s expression only got odder at that, blue eyes scrunched slightly as his head tipped to the side, whining something at Han. Han had clearly misspoke, he guessed the jig was up. Thankfully the girl seemed to understand Shyriiwook, better than Han could in any case. If need be he could always ask her to translate Chewbacca’s speech into Basic for him.

The four of them stood there, staring at each other awkwardly for a moment, before a thought occurred to the girl and her face perked up with delight. “We could use your help!” she said. “The droid with us has to get to the Resistance base as soon as possible!”

Ok, he could negotiate this, he supposed. They thought he was a smuggler, and they needed something smuggled. He had no karking idea where this Resistance was or what it was or anything like that, but they wanted to hire him for a job - the very type of job he’d always dreamed of having, and he didn’t really want to turn them down.

“Yeah? How much you offering?” He responded, hoping to get a good price for transporting the goods.

The Wookie’s surprised squawk really made no sense at all.

“We don’t have creds to offer you, but this is _really_ important,” the guy said, frowning at Han. “The droid’s carrying a map to _Luke Skywalker_.” He said that name like it had meaning. Like Han was supposed to know who this Clodplotter guy was.

Everyone was giving Han weird looks now. “You do know him, yeah?” the guy asked. He really was acting like Han never hearing of this guy was weird.

Before he could tell the man to shove it, Chewbacca interrupted, asking follow up questions about the claim the droid had a map and all. The girl translated, letting them know that the Wookie said the two of them did in fact know this Luke guy.

The guy nodded, looking serious as could be, facing Han. “So you _are_ the Han Solo that fought with the Rebellion.”

Han didn’t know how to respond to that, so he shrugged, ready to give a non-committal response. He was interrupted by a banging noise from the heavy freighter they had just left.

Everyone stared at him for a long awkward moment, and when he didn’t say anything Chewbacca began to move toward the door. He said something about… About rathtars being loose? Oh kriff no, nope, no way, Han was not getting back onto the heavy freighter if there were rathtars roaming the halls, no thanks.

Wait, oh frag, what if Qi’ra was still on there?

Thankfully after the girl had translated the Shyriiwook for her companion, he asked the question Han wanted to but couldn’t without throwing off a potentially delicate situation. It wasn’t really like he wanted to keep this act up, but he worried expressing he wasn’t the smuggler they thought he was would lead to losing his usefulness and then he’d be killed. Far better to pretend to be who they thought he was and stay alive.

“What?! Did you just say rathtars? Hey! You're not hauling rathtars on this freighter, are you?”

The girl’s face scrunched up, confused. “What's a rathtar?”

“Ever heard of the Trillia Massacre?” The guy asked her.

“No,” she responded.

Han hadn't either.

“Good,” the guy nodded. “Wait, how did you get them aboard?”

That was a great question, one that got to the heart of what Han needed to know - would he be leaving anyone important behind (namely, of course, Qi’ra) if he just took this crappy little ship and bolted? No need to deal with _rathtars_ of all things.

Again the Wookie was looking at him, waiting for him to answer. He frowned, and gestured for the big hairy guy to speak. How long could he keep this up before he’d be forced to spill the truth? Not much longer, he didn’t think. If Qi’ra wasn’t on the other ship, he was going to take this smaller one and bolt, no question about it.

Sure enough, the Wookie confirmed that he and Han were all that was left of the larger ship’s crew. Han shoved the pain over what that meant for Qi’ra down, and made his way toward the YT freighter cockpit, determined to get the hell out of there. He could scream and cry and rage about her being gone from this future of his later.

The girl followed him, as did the Wookie, and trailing behind all of them was the guy who kept asking questions Han couldn’t answer.

Han sighed, realizing there was no way he was going to ditch these three. At least he could try and convince them he was who they thought, that he had power and leverage in this situation and wasn’t some rube they could easily pick off. Plus, if he played this right, he could get one of them to show him the basics of flying one of these things by example. He was a great pilot, he knew that. The girl had only confirmed that further - but he’d never flown a ship like this and could benefit from watching someone else at the controls - just a for a moment before he figured things out for himself.

Thankfully the girl seemed all too happy to beat him to the controls, plopping down and flipping switches and levers like no one’s business. She told him about something to do with the fuel compressor, and made adjustments to the ship as she spoke. Han vaguely remembered being a toddler and his dad taking him to the factory with him, going over the various systems of the ships he built. With time, he’d probably pick it all back up, and then some. As it was, he hadn't really been able to study anything larger than a speeder since he'd been orphaned. He nodded along with the girl though, and it seemed to be all the encouragement she needed.

They pulled away from the larger bulk freighter, Han quickly figuring the controls out as he watched the girl work. As they pulled away he caught sight of two other ships docking to the freighter as they cleared the mouth of the docking bay.

Well kriff that.

He pulled the navicomputer over, only to realize it was far more complex than any interface he’d ever worked with before. Oh stang it. He glanced about at the sparks and bangs as the ship buckled under the stress of flight, and waved Chewbacca over, hoping his excuse would pass muster. “I’m going to focus on doing some repairs,” he said, confident his mechanical knowledge would be up to snuff, “Can you program this thing?”

No question that the Wookie knew there was something very wrong. He bellowed something at Han about taking them home, or at least that was what Han assumed. Han didn’t really understand all the words, but he nodded along all the same. The Wookie’s expression was some weird cross between relieved and worried.                                      

Han’s attention was only on the repairs for a moment, but there were so many that were needed, the ship had been so badly neglected. Outside the cockpit, displayed through every viewport, the void and stars of space (already so precious and new to Han) were turning into white streaky lines and then, suddenly, replaced by bright blue lights swirling and dancing in a tunnel.

He wiped at some dust that had gotten in his eye, and hoped his reaction to the spectacle taking place through the viewports wouldn’t be mistaken for weakness. Wouldn’t get him killed. At least he didn't feel sick the way he had the first time he'd ever been in hyperspace.

Everyone was filing out of the cockpit now, headed back into the main cabin. Han wanted to stay there, just gazing at the way the various shades of blue danced about outside, but it was too conspicuous. He followed the others, and tried to blend into a wall, hoping to avoid being found out. He’d barely fired blasters before, for kriff’s sake, and he didn’t want to test his fists against whatever sort of weapons proficiency the others might have.

Still, everyone was watching him. Waiting. Expecting him to say something.

He must be some big boss or something, the way everyone seemed to hope he’d speak first.

“So, fugitives, huh?” He knew it wasn’t the best opening, not by a long shot, but hopefully they’d be so distracted by detailing why they shouldn’t get handed over to authorities they’d forget to really pay attention to him. It was a trick he pulled all the time with his fellow Scumrats, diverting attention away from whatever he did by making them justify their own actions.

Sure enough, the girl perked up. “The First Order wants the map!” She declared, giving her companion a massive grin. He didn’t return it. “Finn’s with the Resistance!”

The guy, Finn, looked beyond uncomfortable. The girl didn’t notice it, but Han did. He was lying about who he was then. Han didn’t need to know who the krizz the First Order or Resistance were to find Finn’s reaction interesting. Just how much of his story was real then, and how much was a fabrication? Was he trying to impress the girl, or did he have some other goal here?

The girl was still talking, finishing up her statement. Now she was the one who looked almost ashamed. “I’m just a scavenger,” she finished with a shrug.

He wondered if she worked independently, or for some cartel. If it was the former, then she was higher up in the way of things than Han himself, that was for sure.

“So errr, tell me about this map then,” Han asked, hoping to keep the conversation going. So long as the other two kept talking his own lack of knowledge wouldn’t be apparent.

“It leads right to Luke Skywalker,” Finn responded. The words weren’t his own. Han could tell he was quoting someone else, perhaps the real person with this Resistance group whose identity he was stealing.

“Right,” Han responded, pretending that any of this meant something to him.

“Do you know what happened to him?” Finn asked, pressing further on his earlier question about Han knowing this Luke guy. Funny, from how they talked about him, the guy was famous. Why would Han know him personally?

Then again, they had both acted like his name was of galactic notoriety, so it could be whatever badass gang leader he grew into being, he had crossed paths with this missing guy. So rather than respond, Han shrugged, and made as if he was interested in one of the broken down parts of the ship that left the machinery exposed.

Stang, this thing was junked up real bad.

The Wookie was saying something, making an excuse for him, and there was something in his tone that made Han stop and reconsider everything.

The way the Wookie sounded, he was acting like he genuinely cared about Han. He’d only ever really heard that tone in Qi’ra’s voice before, well, and Tsuulo’s before he’d died.

The truth was, he’d seen through Finn’s lie in an instant, and he actually seemed to know who and what they were talking about. If Han didn’t have that same sort of knowledge, how was he supposed to pull this off?

He sighed, turned around, and walked into the center of the cabin, set on owning what was really going on.

“Hey, it’s ok. You don’t need to make excuses for me,” Han started. “Probably best I just come clean now, before I get in too deep.”

They were all watching him. The Wookie with a weird paternalistic pride, and the two Humans with all kinds of misplaced hope and respect.

“I aint the guy you think I am. Or maybe I am, who the kriff knows. Thing is… I have no karking clue where I am, or who any of the people or organizations you’re talking about are. Hell I don’t even know him!” He pointed at the Wookie with one thumb, hoping that really highlighted his point. “I think I’ve got amnesia or something, ‘cause last thing I remember I’m about eighteen, nineteen years of age or so and eating dinner… and then suddenly I was here and _old_ and in space.”


	2. Assumptions Make an Ass Out of You (and me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I borrowed a line from "Most Wanted" by Rae Carson. You can tell which one. Also there are a bunch of spoilers for that book in this chapter.
> 
> There is also dialogue in here from the Forces of Destiny episode "Tracker Trouble"

Han looked around at the motley crew assembled around him, unsure how they’d react to the news that Han couldn’t remember…  however many years it had been. Kriff, but his reflection had looked _old_.

The Wookie bellowed something at him, and with two long strides was across the room and had Han folded in a hug.

He was saying something else now, and Han again heard his name. Chewbacca.

“Thanks Chewbacca. That name’s a real mouthful, no way I call you that all the time. Do you have a nickname or something?”

The Wookie, Chewbacca, was laughing. Holding Han tight against his warm fuzzy body, and shaking with laughter.

Somewhere in there Han heard the nickname “Chewie.”

The two Humans were looking back and forth between each other and him and Chewbacca, visibly confused.

“Are you saying you really don’t have any memories?” Finn asked.

“Oh, I’ve got memories all right. Just none that extend past six ay ef ee.”

The girl laughed. “No one uses the Imperial calendar anymore,” she explained when he looked at her. “Anyway, I do think you’re telling the truth.”

“What? Rey, you can’t possibly believe a story like that!” Finn exclaimed.

The girl - Rey - shrugged. “I just feel like I can trust him on this. It’s about as likely as this being the real Millennium Falcon, isn’t it?”

“No, no it isn’t,” Finn said, “those two things are in _no way_ comparable!”

Han had to agree with Finn, this whole situation was absurd. Still, as long as he was asking questions and learning information… “Hey, Chewie, earlier you said you told the ship to jump us home. Something tells me you didn’t mean Corellia or even Kashyyyk by that, did you?”

Chewbacca shook his head no.

“Well where we headed then?”

The Wookie shrugged and rumbled his response. Only word Han caught was “wife.”

“Look, I’m real sorry but my Shyriiwook is pretty shakey. Did you you say we’re going to see your wife, or-”

The Wookie barked a laugh, shaking his head, and Han caught another name, Malla, and then the planet Kashyyyk. Ok, so the guy’s wife was back home - for real home, which meant they were going to-

“I’m kriffing _married_?”

Chewbacca nodded.

Qi’ra was still alive! She hadn’t been killed by a rathtar! He was _married_! There was something that seemed kinda off at the thought, but Han ignored it. He couldn’t keep the dopey grin off his face.

The Wookie growled something full of cautious and disapproving tones. Han wasn’t able to catch much of what he said, but he did recognize Qi’ra’s name, so he chalked the rest of it up to her and the Wookie not getting on.

“Right. So apparently we’re going to see my wife.”

Both Rey and Finn were gaping at him.

“For real?” Finn said, “we’re just… going right to her?”

Chewie huffed something real long and full of technical crap that made Rey laugh.

“What’d he say?” Han asked her. He’d caught his name somewhere in there, in any case.

“Oh, he said that it’s actually a good thing you’re so confused, because you would have taken us clear across the galaxy before you’d ever even _contact_ your wife yourself.”

“He said more than that, that was a _real_ long response on his part.”

“Yes. He also said that you and your wife had a fight, and that you’re afraid of her.”

“What? No way that’s true!”

The Wookie laughed.

“Hey! Tell them that ain’t true! No way I became a coward!”

Chewbacca laughed even harder.

“Thank you for taking us right to her. I wasn’t expecting anything like that at all,” Rey said. “The map inside BeeBeeAight must be really important!”  Qi’ra must've been a real big deal based on the awe in her voice.

Han actually was able to make out a good chunk of what Chewie was saying. Something about how normally they’d want more proof before rushing on over to a secret base, but with Han in the state he was in… Something about the Force?

“The Force?” Han scoffed, the memory of Tsuulo’s constant desperate prayers, how Tsuulo’d _died_ , rising to the forefront of his thoughts. “Don’t tell me any of you believes in that banthacrap.”

Finn frowned at him. “I know how it sounds, I never would have believed in it myself but… I’ve seen things, like Kylo Ren freezing a blaster bolt right in the air.” It was pure nonsense, but for once the guy’s body language was coming across as sincere.

Still, hadn’t they just gone over how Han didn’t know what was going on? “Back up, who’s this Kyle guy?” For some reason Han's attention had caught onto that name.

No one answered him. Finn looked scared, so whoever they were they were apparently a big deal. Rey just seemed confused, so she’d probably never heard of them either.

Chewbacca though… he just looked devastated. Shoulders hunched, head drooping, coming to terms with returning to Lady Proxima empty handed and knowing you’d be sent to the Cistern of Discipline type depressed. If Han were to bet on it, he’d say Chewie knew the guy personally. Interesting.

That told him a lot, really, but it didn’t explain Finn’s fear or why Chewbacca was so sad.

“Don’t all clamor to answer my question all at once,” Han scoffed. “Wouldn’t be able to understand you over the noise and all.”

Chewbacca huffed a laugh. No one ever laughed at Han’s jokes, always found his sense of humor a bit too sharp or peculiar. Qi’ra’d get what he was saying, more often than not, but she rarely found him _funny_.

He liked that Wookie, acting like Han was actually amusing. No wonder he’d made sure their alliance was so strong. Good to have around in a fight, and good company, the only disadvantage Han could think of is the big guy probably required a lot of food.

Although based on the plate his older self had been enjoying in his quarters when Han first found himself in this situation, he no longer needed to worry about finding enough to eat.

“You really don’t know, do you? The Han Solo from the stories, he…” Finn frowned, shaking his head. “He probably would know all about Luke Skywalker, probably about Kylo Ren too, about _all_ of it.”

“Yeah well, as I said, even if that was me, I can’t remember anything.” Han threw himself into one of the seats, feeling weird standing in the middle of the room when everyone else was sitting. Or leaning against a wall in Chewbacca’s case.

“You’re really sticking with the amnesia story?” Finn asked.

“What the hell else could it be?” Han threw his hands up. “You got any ideas here, I’d love to hear ‘em.”

Finn shook his head. “Look all I know is, that just doesn’t sound very likely.”

“Yet blaster bolts getting frozen in mid air is?” Han laughed, leaning back in his seat.

“I wouldn’t have believed it until I saw it, but I saw it.” Finn said. He sounded serious, he really did believe he had seen that nonsense. Still thinking you saw a thing wasn’t the same as it actually happening. That was why sleight of hand was always such an effective trick.

“Banthacrap.”

Any further arguing was put on hold by a light flashing in the room. Chewie bellowed something about hyperspace lanes, and made towards the cockpit. All three of the Humans followed after him, watching as the swirling blue of hyperspace gave way to the countless glittering stars of real space. It was an incredible sight, something Han was sure he would never get sick of, not even if he reached the age he appeared to be for real. The awe of it overrode the way his stomach clenched.

Almost as soon as they dropped out of hyperspace there was a horrible groaning scratch, metal grinding and straining as the ship rocked and jerked. Suddenly it was quiet. Too quiet. The engine noises Han’d been hearing in the background, behind everything else, cut out.

Rey turned to Chewbacca, eyes wide, voice scared. “You did do a full sweep for tracking devices, didn’t you?”

The Wookie bellowed a response.

“Well Unkar’s been using a new kind of tracking device. We might need to do a visual check.”

“What’s going on?” Finn asked.

“Unkar hired me to fix ships. I never put a tracker on the Falcon, but he may have!” Rey exclaimed.

Chewbacca added something to the conversation, far too technical for Han to understand.

“That is brilliant!” Even as she shouted Rey’s face was almost completely taken up by her wide grin. “You are good!”

“What’d he just say?” Han asked.

“He thinks we should look near the active sensor pulse generator. Unkar could have hid it there!”

Finn and Han gave each other glances, equally lost. As soon as Chewbacca and Rey had their backs turned Han rolled his eyes dramatically while pulling a face, and Finn laughed.

Han still didn’t know why Finn was pretending to be part of this “Resistance” when he clearly wasn’t (especially with them heading directly to their base. His lie was going to be exposed as soon as they get there) but he really was a likable guy. A bit jumpy and prone to hyperbole, but likable.

“Look, I don’t know where this sense pulse thing is, and obviously neither does Finn. Why don’t we stay here while you two go take care of it? I may have never piloted a ship like this before, but I’ve driven... well I driven speeders a couple of times before. Even raced in one once.” He didn't tell them that he hadn't actually been participating in the race, or that it had been a stolen speeder (or that the car had wound up being destroyed by CorSec). Still, he’d done a pretty good job he thought. Better than Qi’ra had when she’d tried, and she’d had actual driving lessons. She'd even complimented his driving afterwards, told him he was a natural at it.

Rey nodded, and hurried out of the cockpit with Chewbacca.

When they left the room, he started to poke around, determined to piece together as much as he could about the years he was apparently missing. He hated this, not knowing what was going on around him. He worked real hard to make sure he always had contacts in the right places, people to give him a needed boost, to assure his survival even when situations turned out of his control. Now he wouldn’t know his allies from his enemies. Sure the Wookie seemed trustworthy and could help him identify what was going on, but with how patchy his Shyriiwook was he’d have to depend on the girl to translate for him. He remembered how annoying it always used to be translating Tsuulo’s Huttese for Qi’ra. No way he’d put someone else in that position. Kriff but he needed to improve his Shyriiwook and fast.

Not to mention of course that having someone translate such basic needed info for him would have an absurd delay, and stuff would always get lost in translation. He wouldn’t be able to stay alive long that way. Unless this was all some sort of dream he was having.

It wasn’t impossible. The rat he was splitting with Pawlo could have been bad enough to cause hallucinations. It’d never happened to him, but he thought one of the younger Scumrats had been telling stories once about eating something that had turned and having the most vivid dreams after. Of course they were always telling all sorts of weird stories, so who knew if that was a trustworthy source.

Han spotted something he recognized, something that tied this wreck to him in an unexpectedly intimate way. His lucky dice, hanging from one of the many haphazardly bent pipes. He pulled them down, their weight comfortable and familiar in his palm, even with all the unfamiliar scratches and dents.

His entire view of the ship shifted, seeing those dice there. It no longer seemed like a trashed up junker, but rather like the wreck he kept at BJ-54’s garage. His own words about the car he was trying to get working echoed through his head, from back when he’d shown it to Tsuulo and Qi’ra for the first time and Qi’ra’d had the gall to call it a piece of junk.

_“...doesn’t look like much, but I don’t care about that. It’s going to be the fastest speeder the Corellien streets have ever seen. I’m building the repulsorlift from scratch, see. Then I’m going to add stabilizers for extra maneuverability, maybe paint it blue…”_

Yeah, ok, he could see how he’d come to be the owner of a ship like this.

He looked around with renewed interest, really taking this ship in as his. He wondered how long he’d had it, and how he’d come by it in the first place.

As taken as Han was with every little detail of the ship, Finn seemed miserable and out of place. He was real antsy, probably aware that as soon as they made it to their destination, he’d be exposed for the fraud he was. Han didn’t really care that the guy was conning them, he’d done far too much lying to survive himself to judge anyone else on it. If anything he felt almost sorry for Finn. He was clearly new at the whole deception thing, and he didn’t seem to have a plan.

When the guy’s discomfort got to be too much in the tiny space, Han asked him, “So, what’re you planning to tell ‘em when we get there?”

“What?” Finn blurted out. “Tell who?”

“The people at the secret base, your friend Rey, _everyone_. Come’on, you’re going to need to be ready for when the actual Resistance folks confirm that they don’t know you. So what’s your plan?”

“Why do you think they won’t know me? I am with the Resistance! I’m a big deal with the Resistance!”

“Oh frag off 'Big Deal,' I doubt Finn is even your real name.”

“I… but… how’d you know?”

“Oh, I never reveal my hand. Not when I can avoid it in any case. That’s how I’ve survived so long, I’m guessing. Never even thought I’d make it to two decades, but just look at me!”

“Well maybe… maybe the people there aren’t going to be as perceptive!”

“Listen to me here, pal. Chewie said my wife is at this Resistance place, right?” Han grinned, loving how that phrase sounded on his lips. “My wife.” He could say that all day, over and over. An official title, representing their bond, tying them together for real.

What could be better than that?

Finn’s grumbled response broke through Han’s moment of sheer bliss. “Well yeah, of course I mean -”

Han cocked an eyebrow. “Do you think she’s not as good at sniffing these things out as I am?”

“What?”

“My wife.” He grinned, pleased to be saying that phrase again. “Do you think she’s an idiot?”

“Of course not! She’s -”

“A kriffing genius, yeah.”

Finn frowned. “You sure you have amnesia?”

“Yeah, pretty sure.”

“Then how do you know that?”

“I just do, ok?”

“Look, if you think I’m going to have trouble passing myself off as a random no-name member of the Resistance, just how much trouble are you going to have selling this amnesia thing?”

“Are you kidding me here? Why would I be faking?”

“I can’t say for sure, I only just met you. But I am sure there are a ton of reasons why it may come in handy for you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Especially if you are trying to get out of a conversation with your wife, which based on what Rey said Chewbacca was saying, that seems pretty possible.”

“Oh shove off.”

“I’m just saying, based on everything I’ve ever heard, you’re right about her intelligence. Only I heard you left her, _and_ she knows you better than she knows me, so she’s going to care about what you’re claiming waaaay more than anything to do with a nobody like me. I think I’m safe.”

Han wanted to ask Finn about what he said, about him leaving his wife. That really didn’t sound right. However before he could the ship’s systems came back online with a jolt, sending the two of them careening into the side. So instead of asking the questions he wanted to ask, Han scowled. “Looks like our friends found what they were looking to fix.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Do you uh, know how to fly this thing? I mean just ‘till they get back in here.”

“How hard can be, right? Nothing next to street racing. Besides, we’re just floating in the vacuum, not like there is anything to bump on into.”

“That’s… really not reassuring,” Finn said with a massive sigh.

“Yeah well, what sort of piloting experience do you have?” Han frowned.

“Me? Not much, really. I uh, flew a TIE once, with another pilot.”

“A TIE? You an Imp then?”

Finn jolted like he’d touched a live wire. The guy was not a good liar. “What? No!”

“Ok, I’ll get off your back.” Han shook his head, wondering how Finn planned to keep this up. “You’re gonna need to work on your cover story before we get to this base.”

“Please don’t tell Rey,” Finn pleaded, “She can’t know.”

“Why’s it so important to you?”

“Because I don’t want to see how she’d look at me if she found out,” Finn said. “Because I want to be the man she thinks I am.”

Han plopped himself into the pilot’s seat, studying the controls. “Look, growing up like I did you learn the value of secrets real quick. I may be an ass, but I wouldn’t betray anyone like that, even if we did only just meet. I mean, it aint my secret to tell, is it?”

Finn sunk into the co-pilot’s seat next to Han, visibly forcing himself to relax. He nodded absentmindedly. “Thanks Solo, I really appreciate it.”

Han frowned. “Can you quit it with that name? It’s weird.”

“Huh?” Finn’s face scrunched up, confused.

“Solo,” Han clarified, “That aint my name.”

“Oh I…” Finn grinned. “I hadn’t realized you took your wife’s surname. Sorry for assuming things.”

Now it was Han’s turn to be confused. As far as he knew, Qi’ra didn’t have a family name, just like him. Hell, she’d escaped from the Silo of all places, the chances an orphan from a work camp like that one would have anything like that was nill.

Rather than investigate further - open the door to a floodgate of questions he was sure Finn would not be able to answer and were best saved for Qi’ra herself - Han grunted and began to flip some of the many many levers and switches that made up the ship’s controls. The consol lit up encouragingly, and Han began to fiddle with things more and more.

Yeah.

Yeah, he could see himself falling in love with this ship, he really could.

He was getting really into things when Rey and Chewbacca returned, chatting loudly as they stepped into the cockpit. At first Han just let the sound of Rey’s enthusiastic voice and Chewie litany of trills and roars fade into the background, but then he picked his name out of what Chewbacca was saying.

Han looked up from the consol, grinning. “Yeah? Everything all right?”

The Wookie nodded, and then in lower tones asked Han a question. He actually understood this one. He was asking Han if he understood him.

Han nodded.

The Wookie gave a pleased chortle, and then complimented Han’s piloting. He added something at the end, something Han didn’t catch. “I got everything but that last part, pal.”

Rey bit at her lip, shifting her weight from side to side like she had to pee, before blurting, “he said he needs to plot our hyperspace lane.” As soon as both Han and Chewbacca’s focus was on her she seemed to regret speaking, glancing at a flashing light on the wall panel beside her. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have inserted myself into things. You aren’t going to learn if I keep doing the heavy lifting for you. I, I’ll keep out of your business now.”

“Nah, if anything I’d like to thank you. Translating like that aint easy. ‘Sides, I’m sure Finn here really appreciates it, since I don’t think he knows any Shyriiwook at all, do you Finn?”

“Uh, no. No I don’t. I only speak Basic.”

Rey seemed real pleased with the compliment, responding with a massive grin that practically took up her entire face and then some.

Han glanced back at the controls, anything but eager to let someone else take them over. “I suppose you want to take over the piloting Rey?”

She confirmed that she did, and Han reluctantly stood, offering her his seat.

“Right.” He glanced around the small room at all the flashing lights and exposed electrical work. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to really explore the rest of it, to really take in the ship that would day be _his_.

He rubbed his palms on his trousers, then unceremoniously announced he was going to check out the rest of the ship. The others just waved him off, acting like it wasn’t a big deal. Still, the fleet of mynocks that had seemingly taken residence inside him started dancing about. His own ship. One that, unlike Qi’ra’s safehouse, actually worked. A ship that was truly space worthy.

He didn’t know why the significance of it all was only hitting him now, but it made his head spin. With the memory loss, the Kaldana Syndicate's flagship had been the starship he'd spent the most time on, and he’d been too busy trying not to die at that time to really appreciate it. Now here he was, on his very own ship. Had his lucky dice dangling from the dash type his.

He gave the stars outside one last lingering glance, then headed back into the hold, eager to take a look at more of the YT-1300f. To tour his _home_.


	3. Here Comes the General

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is beyond unbetaed. Let me know if you spot any errors or would be interested in taking on that task.

The ship was burnt out, mechanics out in the open, _everything_ exposed.

There wasn’t even anything slightly decorative.

Sure the place had been looted, but he kept hoping to find something like an old can full of dried flowers. Or hand embroidered blankets.

Some sign that Qi’ra had been a part of his life on this ship.

For the most part personal belongings in general were gone, absent, clearly stolen - removed with haste - the evidence of the people who had been through here looking for valuables clear.

Still, there were scattered remains all over the ship, and he _had_ found some clothes that looked to vaguely be Qi’ra’s size.

He didn’t see anything too remarkable, until he opened a door that should have lead to a storage closet and found a child’s bedroom. Toys and tiny clothes were scattered across the floor. The walls were covered in painted posters of races - races with Han’s name (with that ridiculous last name “Solo” beside it) listed in big print as a sponsor.

The space was different from the rest of the ship. Brighter. More cheerful. Like everywhere else it had clearly been ransacked.

Han stepped further into the room, heart racing as he considered what it meant to find a room like this on a ship that had belonged to him.

He was a father.

Him.

A father.

Unless maybe this room simply belonged to some younger crew member? Someone he kept around because they were small enough to reach the ducts and clean them?

Yeah.

That had to be it.

Nothing to panic over here, no way he had a kid.

He was just being sentimental thinking he’d ever be a dad.

What a silly thought, really. What did he know of fathers?

Hardly ever home, working at a damn factory all the time, and whenever they’re around, drunk. Drunk and alternating between barely responsive and terrifying rages where...

No.

Best not to think about any of that.

‘Sides that guy was long dead.

Or at least that was what Han liked to think.

Had to think.

With the life expectancy of a Corellian factory worker, there was no way it wasn’t true.

Han… Han didn’t ever want to turn into anyone like that man.

Didn’t want to ruin anyone’s life, mess them up the way he was.

So this room, it had to belong to some crew member, someone who could fit into those tiny spaces Han no longer could, what with how much bigger his body was now.

Which, now that he thought about it, made no kriffing sense. He’d stopped growing a year or so back, so how’d his older self get so much taller?

There was some sort of height measure on the wall. Little marks scratched into the bulkhead, indicating how tall the occupant was, next to various dates. Han ignored what that meant about who the occupant of this room had to be, and instead focused on the reminder that his height made no karking sense. How’d he grown so much after he was… well… all grown?

He sat on the small bunk, feeling kind of lost, when the posters caught his eye again.

All of his wildest dreams had come true, hadn’t they?

He was a famous racer, he had a ship, he had left Corella, and he was married to the _smartest_ most competent woman in the galaxy.

Maybe…

Maybe it wasn’t too awful to think that his future self had a kid as well?

Maybe, if he was able to do all of those impossible things, he had managed not to ruin a child’s life.

 _That_ seemed about as likely as him marrying into one of the fragging Elder Houses, but…

He glanced again at the marks scratched into the wall, thought about what it might be like, putting those marks there. Having some little tiny face that bore some resemblance to his own beaming at him, expecting so much from him, things he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to provide.

Shit. Yeah he’d made all his dreams come true, but... How had he done it?

Kriff.

It was _terrifying_.

How was he supposed to do right by a kid when he could barely take care of himself? Keeping himself safe, finding food, that was a full time job.

He supposed he could ask Chewbacca. The Wookie seemed to know both him and the ship really well, he’d probably know how badly Han had messed this kid’s life up.

The ship jerked slightly around him, his stomach making that same terrible clench it had the first time they’d dropped out of hyperspace. There was some banging in the hall, growing nearer, and then…

Han turned, taking in Chewbacca standing in the doorway of the room. He looked sad again, like he had when Finn had brought up the frozen blaster bolt he’d supposedly witnessed. Well that answered that, didn’t it? The kid was a depressing topic for those who knew them. Han had been a terrible father. Of course he had been. Who was he kidding pretending there was even a chance he could have been otherwise.

Why had his older self let this happen? He should have known better.

The Wookie stepped further into the room, shutting the door behind him.

The space was way too small for the two of them, Han felt crowded in. Claustrophobic.

Tipping his head to the side, Chewbacca let out a low mournful roar, leaning over the bed to rest one fuzzy hand on Han’s shoulder.

Han wished he understood the guy better. Could make heads or tails of what he saying. Only thing he caught there was a general expression of sorrow. Must have been telling him of whatever awful way the whole father thing had ended. Han was hoping the kid had only run away or something, like he had, rather than something really extreme like death.

“Yeah, well, I never wanted to be a dad anyway, right?’ He groused, brushing the hand off him.

The Wookie shook his head. Han understood what he was saying now, the words were simple, trilled slowly and kindly. Reassurances that Han was a good dad, that he’d been great with the pup. The Wookie was a real good liar it seemed, since he sold the empty words well, made them sound almost like he actually believed them. Too bad Han could see through them so easily.

Han sighed. “Is this the story behind the whole ‘you left your wife’ thing Finn was talking about? Also, am I really so famous that randoms care about the details of my karking relationship?”

The Wookie huffed an affirmation of that last point, but didn’t answer Han’s first question.

Great.

“Come’on big guy, I know you know. I left because I couldn’t face how bad a father I’d been, yeah?”

The Wookie wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Hit the nail on the head then.

“Anything else I should know before we land and I have to face Qi’ra?”

The Wookie let out a frustrated growl. Then he said something made Han’s heart stop beating.

“What the kriff do you mean I aint married to Qi’ra?!”

Han’d been right earlier when he guessed the big guy didn’t like Qi’ra at all. The string of insults he had for her were something else. Kept claiming, over and over, that he was way too good for her.

Yeah right.

Chewbacca was probably making it all up anyway. Trying to get Han to believe he wasn’t with Qi’ra just because he didn’t like her. Well too bad. It’d take more than that to break a bond as strong as theirs.

There was a bang on the door. Han called out, annoyed, for whoever it was to shove off, since he wanted to interrogate the Wookie more about this tall tale he was spinning, but Finn’s voice filtered in. “Sorry to interrupt, but I heard your voices in there and thought you’d want to know that we’re landing soon.”

Not feeling particularly kind at the moment, Han responded, “What, did they not need any sort of codes before letting us land?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the door, after all he’d pretty much just pointed out that Finn wasn’t who he claimed to be. “BeeBeeAte had the most recent clearance codes for the base, wasn’t any trouble.”

Right.

Guess that ball had some use after all.

Han’d been avoiding the little spherical droid the best he was able. Damn thing creeped him out.

It wasn’t like he was a… what did Tool call it? Meknophone? Mechanicalophode? Well whatever the term was, he wasn’t that.

Han didn’t mind droids too much, even had a few friends who were droids like Tool or BeeJay, but they were able to speak basic, and had proper limbs and all that.

None of this weird cute electronic nonsense that also happened to have a personality and independence and who knew what else. Droids like that ball were flashy technology Han could neither see the point of or ever hope to afford.

Han stood, claiming what little floor space the Wookie didn’t occupy in the room, and gestured at the door.

Chewbacca let out a disgruntled whine - he wanted to stay here and talk more - but Han didn’t really care what he wanted. He was done with this conversation, and ready to just find Qi’ra already and get some answers from her.

The big guy was nice and all, and clearly very loyal to Han, but after that horrible lie he’d told Han he no longer trusted him.

Imagine, Han being with someone other than Qi’ra!

What a load of total banthcrap.

The Wookie got the message though, he exited the room and Han followed after him, giving Finn and the tiny droid a sunny smile as he stepped into the main hold. All of them walked together to the cockpit, where Rey was piloting the ship and bringing them down for a landing on a small planet of mostly greens and blues.

Han couldn’t help but whistle when he saw it, impressed. “Have you ever seen such an undeveloped stretch of nature?” he asked. Coronet was all industrial sprawl and waste. He’d never seen anything like this before.

“No,” Rey responded, “I didn’t think there was this much green in the entire galaxy.”

“Where you from then?” Han was genuinely interested in getting to know his new friends, doing so could only help him feel more grounded in this strange new time he found himself in.

“Jakku,” Rey shrugged.

“Huh.” Han said, “Never heard of it.”

“It’s a junkheap in the Inner-Rim.” Finn said, voice a bit elevated. “Absolute _garbage_.”

“Hey! That’s her home planet. I’m sure she has some sentiment about it.” Han may hate Coronet and its corrupt factories and endless stinking sewers, but he wouldn’t like it if some off-worlder just started bad mouthing the place in front of him.

“Oh. No, I really don’t. It's ok. I do want to head back there though, as soon as we get these plans safely to the Resistance.”

“You accept that the place is awful yet you want to go back?” Now that he was off Corellia, there were very few things that could get him to return.

“I’ve already been away for too long. That’s where my family is expecting to find me. If I leave, they never will.”

Han shook his head. In his experience, any family a person hadn’t seen for long enough was probably dead. Still, he’d seen his share of kids on the streets who’d convinced themselves their parents were still out there, still cared. It had helped many of them make it through the day, fight to see the next one and the next after that, so he didn’t dare say anything to contradict her.

They were directed, by a tiny voice over the comms, to land at a small military structure nestled in the jungle. It was all open air and skies and plants climbing everywhere.

Coranet City had barely any trees left in it, the only one Han’d ever had the chance to observe had been the one by Qi’ra’s safehouse, and Rey wasn’t the only one impressed by the amount of green going on.

There were crowds gathering by the landing pad, people dropping what they were doing as they caught sight of the ship in the sky above them. They were all dressed in a variety of uniforms, all of them shades of orange or yellow or brown. Paramilitary then. Han could see weaponry everywhere, and they clearly observed some sort of hierarchy.

He made a mental note not to upset whoever was in charge here.

Rey gently settled them onto the landing pad that had been cleared for them, and together the lot of them made their way to the entry ramps to step out there and face the crowds.

Han made sure to clap Finn on the shoulder as they did, a non-verbal reminder that he was there for him, and would stand by him if things turned sour with his deception. The guy smiled back at him in return.

A dark skinned woman dressed in an orange flight suit frowned at them near the bottom of the entry ramp. “You’re in his jacket, but definitely not Poe,” she said, matter of factly.

Finn blustered, the guy just didn’t get when to keep quiet. “I’m completing his mission.”

The droid warbled something, rolling up towards her.

“What was that BeeBee?” She crouched next to the droid, listening patiently as he let out a long series of beeps and blorps.

Next to her a second woman, also in one of those heavy flight suits, eyed Han and Chewbacca in disbelief. “Are you really… _him_?” She asked.

Han shrugged.

“Is who really who, Jess?” A bearded man asked as he shoved his way to the front of the crowd. He paused when he saw Han standing there, then grinned. “Han!” He shouted. “I can’t believe it!” The man began to laugh. “I mean this is obviously the _Falcon,_ so I guess I kinda can, but still, I can’t believe it!”

The woman crouching by the droid looked up, now frowning at him. “Snap, you sure that’s really _the_ Han Solo?”

The guy - Snap - nodded. “Of course I’m sure, Karé! Didn’t I ever tell you that I am-”

He was cut off by the two women speaking in unison over him. “ _Absolutely ancient_ and fought in the Battle of Jakku.”

“I guess I just didn’t realize that meant my husband knew _the_ Han Solo.” Karé stood, smiling now herself. “BeeBeeAte says they got the map.”

Snap grinned even wider. “I don't know him from the battle, Han stayed on Chandrila for that. Nah, he helped us plan the rescue for my mom. I spent a lot of time around him back when I was a kid, and I promise you that’s _really_ him.”

“Someone is going to need to get the General,” Jess mused, eyeing the others who had come to check out the ship. A younger looking individual - around Han's actual age - near her nodded and sprinted off to alert this mysterious “General” about their arrival.

They were going to speak to a real authority figure then.

Ok.

Han could do this. Just treat them like they were Lady Proxima and he’d get through dealing with whatever sort of geezer would position themselves as in charge of a paramilitary group like this.

Of course, hadn’t Chewie indicated this was where Han’d find Qi’ra (before he’d started spinning that banthacrap about Han not being with Qi’ra at all)? He started peering about, hoping to catch sight of her in the crowd, but he had no such luck.

Not that he really knew what she’d look like these days, to be honest. Still, he was stubbornly certain he’d recognize her, no matter how many decades of life she’d gained since he’d seen her that morning.

The crowd was parting now, as the kid led this “General” back toward them.

The General turned out to be a woman. Older, maybe Han’s age, maybe younger. He hadn’t seen enough Humans who’d aged this long before to judge, really. She was short, but you could barely tell from how she held herself. Her eyes were fixed on Han as she moved toward the ship, a slight smile on her lips.

A golden droid was following after her, movements stiff and awkward.

“Everyone get back to work!” She yelled as she approached the base of the ramp. “That’s enough gawking from all of you!” She watched the crowd disperse, then turned back to Han, dark brown eyes twinking. “So, you actually found the _Falcon_? Never doubted that you would, you love that thing almost as much as-”

The droid interrupted her. “Han Solo! It is I, See-Threepio, human-cyborg relations! You probably didn’t recognize me on account of my red arm!”

The woman rolled her eyes behind the droid. “I’m sure he remembers you just fine Threepio. Although, I do suppose some introductions are in order.” She nodded at Finn and Rey. “Who’re your friends?” she glanced from Finn to Rey, and then stared openly at the girl.

Could this lady explain herself maybe? Still, it wouldn’t do to piss her off, everyone around her seemed heavily armed and committed to the military hierarchy thing, so he decided to introduce them both to her as simply as he could. “Of course. That’s Finn, and that’s Rey. They’re the ones who found the droid with the map in it.”

Chewbacca rumbled something, and the small smile the General wore gave way to a glowing grin. “I missed you too Chewie!”

He wrapped her tiny frame in his big fizzy arms. He roared something as he did, and she laughed the whole while, delighted.

As soon as she was free of Chewie’s arms she turned to Finn and Rey. “So you’re the ones who brought me the map to Luke. Thank you for that, and also for bringing these two scoundrels home.”

She was smiling at Han again, some strange smile that he wasn’t really comfortable having directed at him.

“I do need to ask, what happened to Commander Dameron? I-” A new ship swooped in over them, and the woman ceased speaking, watching it land instead. “What is it this time?” She groused.

Still standing the top of the entry ramp, Rey was watching the ship as well.

“Do you know them?” Han asked her.

“I think that ship is the _Bophine_. It belongs to Ohn Gos, someone I know on Jakku. How is it _here_?”

“Someone from Jakku?” the General shook her head. “The Western Reaches have certainly been popular lately.”

A lone Human, in rags like Rey’s, exited the new ship.

“That Ohn Gos?” Han asked.

“No. Gos is a Blarina. I have no idea who that Human is.”

Han drew the blaster strapped to his side. Whoever this General was, she was clearly a friend, and Han _always_ helped his friends out. Some unknown person showing up at her supposedly hidden and very well armed base would need to be dealt with.

The General reached out, placing one of her hands on his arm. The jewelry she wore on that hand looked expensive, like more money than Han had ever seen in one place before in his life.

“Ease up on that trigger hotshot!” She laughed. “That’s my missing Commander.” then in a lower voice, just for Han’s ears, “he’s Shara and Kes’s son. Remember them?”

Before Han could tell her that no, he _didn't_ remember those people, the rag clad figure let out a laughing shout as the ball like droid rolled over to him. He knelt and greeted the thing as if it was a beloved pet. Then his gaze shifted to where Han and the others were standing, and a massive grin broke out over his face. “Finn!” he shouted. “Buddy! You completed my mission!”

He took off toward them, probably to give Finn an enthusiastic greeting, but stopped short when the General loudly cleared her throat. He straightened his posture and spook with her instead. “I uh, kinda ran into some trouble on the way here, General.”

The woman nodded. “I’ll want a full report later.” She turned to Han, eyes twinkling. “For now I think I’m going to take a break from my work, and celebrate everything actually working out in our favor for once.”

“Of course, General. I’ll give you all the details about how this amazing man rescued me once you’re done reconnecting with…” the man trailed off, eyes growing just the slightest bit wider. “...is that who I think it is? I don’t believe it! We really _are_ getting close to winning this thing!”

The man’s enthusiasm seemed to be infectious. The General grabbed one of Han’s hands, squeezing it tight. “It is indeed who you think it is, Poe. Your friend did more than complete your mission. He brought us the map to my brother, and in addition to that he also brought _her_ ,” here she gestured towards Rey, giving the girl another odd glance before grinning wide, “and he arrived here aboard the legendary _Millennium Falcon_! Which was of course piloted by the mighty Chewbacca and the unparalleled Captain Han Solo.” Her grin shifted from something bright and shining to something more reserved. Hesitant. “Who I am hoping is going to invite me to join him aboard the Falcon? I still have that Corellian Reserve you sent me for my last name day, you know. We could crack it open and see how much whoever had this old bird looted out of her, if you’d like?” She seemed so unsure, unlike the commanding presence she had been just moments earlier.

For his part, Han similarly wasn’t sure of anything, much less what to do. On one hand she was very obviously flirting, and he had no intention of flirting back. He was, apparently, a married man. On the other, _Corellian Reserve_. A family could comfortably live for _years_ off the money needed to afford even one bottle of that stuff. He wasn’t about to turn down an offer to drink some.

The desire to try the rare and expensive brandy won out. Han nodded, and the General beamed at him.

She let go of his hand, still smiling, and gestured towards one of the bunkers. “I’ll be right back. I just need to go to get the bottle. I’m afraid there isn’t that much left, I let the pilots have at it after the last time one of them was killed in action, but there should be enough for the two of us.”

As she made her way to the base, he turned to reenter the ship. To his surprise, Chewbacca shoved past him, grabbing at Han’s arm as he did. He dragged Han inside with him, looking displeased.

“What’d I do now?” Han grumbled, “she just wants to drink some alcohol.” They both knew her offer had implied far more than that, but Han was pretty sure he could navigate the situation to make sure nothing more than that happened.

The Wookie shook his head, and moaned something about not leading her on.

Lead her on? She was the one hitting on him! Whose side was this guy on anyway?

Han made a dismissive noise in response, leaning into the seat he’d sat in earlier during the conversation in this hold. For how burnt out and stripped down this ship was, that seat was mighty comfortable.

Another roar, this time asking if he still thought he was with Qi’ra.

That one was easy to answer. “Of course. Love ain't something you just change like that” he snapped his fingers for emphasis, “it’s a real serious venture that needs to be given proper respect. Once a commitment is made, you can’t just… wish it away.”

There was a noise from the entry, and the General was standing there, smiling, holding a bottle and two fancy drinking glasses.

The Wookie groaned as if in pain.

“So, what’s the catch?” She asked as she placed the glasses on the table. “No way you show up here, saying wonderful things like that, without there being some sort of catch.”

“How much did you hear?” Han asked.

“Just the part about commitment. Why, were you singing my virtues to Chewie and didn’t want me to know?”

“No, I-”

Chewbacca cut him off, imploring him to tell her everything.

“Oh, so there _is_ a catch then,” she seemed to understand Chewbacca better than he did. “I knew it. Ok flyboy, spill it.”

Han glanced at Chewbacca, just to be sure he really wanted him to tell this woman with a whole base full of uniformed and heavily armed followers that he didn’t know anything about the past few decades. The Wookie nodded enthusiastically.

Alright then.

“I’ve got amnesia, and can’t remember anything that happened to me after age eighteen or so.”

The General snorted, glanced between them confused, and then… something in how she was looking at Han shifted. It was like she was looking _through_ him, or at him more directly than anyone ever had before. After a few good moments she blinked hard and shook her head. Sighing, she slumped onto the bench curved around the dejarik board.

“I don’t think that’s it,” she remarked as she poured herself a large glass of brandy. “Your presence in the Force is all wrong for amnesia.”

“My presence in the Force?” Oh karking hell, just what he needed, someone all hopped up on that Force nonsense _and_ had fashioned themself the leader of some sort of military hierarchy. Who _didn’t_ love heavily armed religious fanatics?

She nodded. “Oh don’t get me wrong, there definitely is something wrong with you, that’s for sure. I probably should have noticed when you were actually being polite to me earlier. The Han I know would have never missed a chance to push back at me.”

“The Han you know? How well do you think you know my future self, because honestly even if I was to accept your woowoo Force banthashit, you really think you can just tell by looking at my what, my aura? That I-”

She cut him off with a dismissive wave. “Oh, I know Han well enough to know everything about your presence is wrong.”

“Oh you do, do you? And how well does one have to know someone to know that?”

She took a log sip of brandy. “ _Pretty_ well.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But of course, thirty years of marriage does tend to lead to intimate knowledge of a person, even if they are just a gundark-headed ruffian.”

 _What_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to figure out the timing of Poe's arrival on D'qar was impossible. In canon he gets there _after_ Leia is informed BB-8 was spotted on Takodana, but with enough time to have a full private debrief with her before the Resistance headed there. Hopefully him getting there just in time to keep Finn and Rey occupied while Leia steals away for some time with her husband didn't feel too forced. 
> 
> I'm still trying to figure out how to get the rest of Black Squad to really significantly be in this, beyond just cameos, but they will be (including Suralinda!) because I love them.
> 
> Next part should be coming soon, since it was actually the very first thing I wrote for this particular story.


	4. But Not at the Expense of the Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't kidding when I said I was eager to share this part and had it ready.
> 
> The rest of this particular fic was essentially written to justify having a conversation between Pre-Solo Han and ST-era Leia.
> 
> So well... here you go.

Chewbacca wailed and moved toward where the General - Han’s supposed wife - was seated. He was moaning something low and reassuring to her. Han didn’t catch the meaning behind any of it.

He tried not to think about the kid’s room on the ship, and his many theories about ways he could have ruined a child’s life. How one of them had obviously come true. How this woman was most likely the mother of that hypothetical child.

For her part his apparent wife simply smiled at her reflection in the glass. “I know,” she said after one particularly mournful cry from the Wookie. “I know, Chewie, I really do. Still…” she sighed, turning to look at Han again, her eyes locked in contact with his. “Eighteen, huh? I take it that means you were talking about Qi’ra when I walked in here?”

He’d told her about Qi’ra?

Of course he had. If he’d really married her he’d probably told her _everything_ there possibly was to know about his life.

Kriff.

“I just… I can’t believe it’s going to end. Qi’ra and I that is.” He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Repeatedly. By the entire White Worm gang. Maybe the Kaldana Syndicate too just for good measure. “There’s no way. None.”

He glanced down at his lap, unable to look at the woman any longer. The worst part of it all was that he could tell she wasn’t lying.

Curiosity won out over his stubborn need to deny the truth in front of him. He sighed. “Please, can you tell me how things ended between Qi’ra and me?”

The woman he was married to stood from her seat and walked over to him, crouching and placing her hands over his. They barely covered his knuckles they were so small (ok that was an exaggeration but _kriff_ they were tiny). “No, I am not going to tell you how things ended with her, Han. You deserve to enjoy your time together without that hanging over you, to experience all the joys and lessons and pains of a first love. Just because something has an end, that doesn’t make it any less important, or no longer worthwhile. Quite the opposite in fact. After all, all things have endings, nothing truly lasts forever.”

He looked up and into her eyes. She looked so sad. Thirty years. _Thirty_. That was _twelve years_ longer than he’d even been _alive_. Or rather, than he could remember being alive. And after all that time, he’d _left_ her?

“I don’t even know your name,” he said. “I mean we’re married, and I have no idea who you are.”

She gave him a gentle smile, moving her hands off of his. “Right. Of course you don’t. My name is Leia.”

“Leia,” he tried out the name, and nodded. “Leia Solo?”

She snorted. “Quite the big ego you’ve got there, assuming I’d ever take your name.”

Han blinked. “Actually, I thought the name was yours and I’m the one who took it, since I don’t have one of my own.”

Leia laughed. Her voice was so husky and commanding when she spoke normally, but when she laughed like that it sounded almost carefree. Han liked the contrast. “Right, of course you don’t. Kriff. _Eighteen_. You’re younger than I was when we met!”

Eager to learn more about the woman he apparently was going to commit his life to, Han asked her about their first meeting. To his surprise she turned his request down.

“Oh no, as tempting as it is to muck about with the past, I am not going to play games with any of it. I’ve already told you too much.” She stood, complaining about her knees as she did (Han sympathised, his body ached something awful all over), and moved back to the dejarik board and the alcohol.

Han frowned. Between that and her response to his request for info about Qi’ra, it was like she thought he was going to get the chance to live through it all. He had amnesia, that meant he was stuck missing most of his life, so why wouldn’t she help him out and fill in the gaps?

Still, he had to keep trying… “Can you at least tell me how I got off Corellia?”

She laughed again, shaking her head. “No, again, that’s something you’re just going to have to live through yourself.”

“What’s that even supposed to mean? Missing memories, that makes sense, but you’re acting like if I go to sleep I’m just going to wake up back in the time I know!” Han complained.

Leia shrugged. “I don’t think it is going to be that simple, but once Luke gets here I am sure we can figure something out.”

“This the guy your map is leading to?”

Leia nodded.

“And you said he’s your brother?”

Chewbacca huffed something about a kiss, and Leia smiled at him.

“Well it certainly will make things less complicated, that’s for sure,” she said.

“Care to explain things for the guy who has no idea what’s going on?”

“If - and that is a big _if_ mind you - we get you home, someone, anyone, knowing that Luke and I are siblings could really change everything once you meet the two of us,” she explained.

Han blinked. “What? Don’t you know who your own brother is?”

Leia winced. “Unfortunately my family tree is the sort of complicated I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

“Right.” Han had no idea what she meant, but she clearly was uncomfortable with the topic. “Actually speaking of your family tree…” Han broke eye contact, unable to look at her. “Finn… he said, he said earlier that he heard that I’d left my wife. Are we still together or-”

“I can’t answer that Han.” Leia cut him off, voice harsh. As if realizing how she sounded, she visibly made herself relax before continuing. “I really can’t. Even if you had all your memories intact I wouldn’t know the answer to that. The only person who actually knows is… well you. The proper for this moment in time you.”

Han scoffed. “Come’on, I doubt that. It’s your marriage too, isn’t it?”

“We… made it look like we’d ended things for the outside world. Needed to, with the kind of work you were doing. But it was only supposed to be for show.”

He could tell she was good at talking around topics, avoiding mentioning things when she didn’t want to. Still, she hadn’t had any time to prepare, and he hoped she’d slip up. Even with her evasiveness, this was more than she’d been willing to say about the other topics.

“I don’t want to say too much, but I will tell you that it’s been a long while since we last spoke, and that I’ve been… well a bit worried about that myself.” She snorted, pouring more brandy into her empty glass. “I am way too sober for this.” She muttered.

Han nodded.

Not wanting to miss out on at least tasting the expensive brandy, and eager for more answers from this woman while she was _actually_ providing them, Han stood from his seat and took the two steps needed to reach where the General was seated. Then he plucked the brandy glass right from her hand and downed the drink himself. After all, if they were married sharing drinks would be no big deal, right?

Setting the empty glass down in front of her, he asked his next question. “I found a kid’s room on the ship. What did I do to them?”

The woman’s face went through a whirlwind of expressions, before settling on plain old outrage. She turned to Chewbacca (Han had nearly forgotten the guy was there with them), jaw set at at a regal angle. It seemed Han still liked his women stuck up as well as bossy. “Chewie, please tell this teenage fool that he’s going to grow up to be a **_great_ ** man and an even better father. I’m afraid I can’t possibly do it without insulting him in the process, and that feels somewhat counterproductive.”

Han sat down on the bench, on the other side of the dejarik table. “Ok, so I didn’t screw the kid up, but something did happen to them?”

“Yes.”

“Well what was it? I mean come on, I guess if you think I’m going back to my time I get the whole not telling me things attitude, but surely that doesn’t apply when it comes to protecting our child, right?”

She looked torn.

Poured herself even more brandy, then filled the second glass and slid it over to Han.

Didn’t say anything, just sat there staring at the nearly empty bottle.

Finally she turned to Chewbacca. “Go say hi to your friends on the base, Chewie,” she ordered, “I… this has to be a private conversation.”

Han grimaced. “So you’re actually going to tell me then?”

“You’re right. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is more important than keeping Ben safe. I just worry that telling you this might..” she broke off, and Chewie inserted some encouraging wails. Leia smiled at him, but gestured towards the exit. “Thanks Chewie, but I meant it about needing to talk to Han alone.”

The Wookie nodded, and left them alone in the big empty ship.

They sat there for a while, sipping at their drinks without speaking.

 _Ben_ , Han kept thinking, _she used the name_ Ben _._

His child had a name, and that name was _Ben_.

Unable to take the silence any longer Han leaned forward in his seat, pretty sure what she was worried about. “Look, I get it. You think if you tell me what went wrong, I’m not going to want to have a kid with you in the first place, right? But maybe if you tell me this, maybe then I’ll feel safer about the whole thing, since I’ll be ready for the worst of it.”

Leia snorted. “I always forget how perceptive you can be, when you actually care to be. Yes, that’s exactly it.”

Han grinned, and sipped at the brandy. Kriff, it was _good_. “Right. So, what happened?”

“Oh how do I put this…. There’s a sickness in my blood. We tried to protect him from it, we really did, but in the end even _that_ blew up in our faces.”

 _Him_.

She had used the pronoun _him_.

He’d had a _son_.

“So…. he’s dead then? Died from this illness?”

“Yes and no.”

“That aint an all the above type question.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“So which is it then?”

“Han, you don’t even believe in the Force yet. You’re really not going to understand any of this.”

The Force? What did that nonsense have to do with his future kid and his blood illness? Still he was willing to hold his questions until she was done telling him things, he didn’t want to scare her out of talking to him. “Try me.”

“He fell to the Dark Side of the Force.”

“He what to the _what_ now?”

“Look, the short version is that our little boy is in the grip of something evil. A horrible man got his hooks into him when no one was looking. _That’s_ what you might be able to prevent.”

He knew what she was saying was dire, and very important, but still his attention had gotten caught on the phrase ‘little boy.’ He had a son! “How old is he?” Han asked, eager to know more about the kid and not just his unpleasant fate.

“Ben’s twenty nine, born just a year after our wedding.”

Kriff, his own son had a decade on him.

“Ben.” He said the name out loud for the first time. “My son’s name is Ben.”

Leia nodded. “Ben Solo.” She provided. “He actually _did_ take your last name, unlike me.”

Han blinked. “Why? I mean I’m assuming you have a real family name, not that made up poodoo I’m apparently going to use one day.”

“My name comes with a ton of responsibilities and obligations. Plus a role that was so unsure and uncertain in the new world we were building back then. Are somehow still fighting to build all these years later. It has a whole history and legacy I wasn’t sure I wanted to burden a newborn with, not after what happened. After I failed to live up to it the way I did. Your name on the other hand… it didn’t carry any baggage with it. No history weighing it down. It felt right, greeting a new life into an exciting new era of galactic history with a name like that, one free of chains to the past.”

“You’re sure putting a lot of stock in your last name there.”

“I promise you, if I told it to you you’d understand.”

“So tell it to me.” Han kicked his feet up, onto the table. Leia scowled at him, but relented easily when he flashed her a winning grin.

She gave way on more than just the feet on the table too. Sighing and providing him with her last name. “Organa.”

Han thought about the expensive rings she wore. About the brandy he was sipping. “Like the royal family of Alderaan? You some sort of distant cousin of royalty or something?”

“Not… quite, No. To the cousin part that is. The part about the royal house of Alderaan was correct.”

He nearly fell off the bench. “You’re royalty!”

“I _was_ royalty,” Leia corrected. “I was officially cast out of the Elder Houses and stripped of my title about three or four years ago.”

Outrage on her behalf filled him. It wasn’t rational, obviously he didn’t actually know the woman, but he was offended for her. “What? Why?”

“Apparently it is unbecoming conduct to be… what did they say again? Ah yes, it is unbecoming conduct to be a violent alarmist and extremist plunging the galaxy into another era of galactic warfare.”

Han laughed. “You uh, do kind of have your own military operation.”

“Desperate times and all that.”

“Wait, why are you willing to tell me about this, when you were so set on not revealing too much about the future?”

“Because Han, I know you don’t actually _care_. Galactic politics mean nothing to you. It’s part of what I always loved the most about you. My work has always been so dire, but when I’d talk to you you’d just make it all feel… well  _silly_. Like abandoning the rest of the galaxy to be selfish with you was actually possible. That is why I know you don’t give two shakes of a Hutts’ ass about any of the political stuff I tell you. After all, all you’ve ever cared about are the people who are important to you.” She stopped talking, and frowned. “What would a Hutt shake anyway? Their stupid little tail thing? I never really understood that expression.”

“Well I dunno, I’ve never actually met a Hutt before.” Han smiled back at her, and was rewarded by hearing that wonderful laugh again. He finished off his glass of brandy. “So the stuff Finn said about me being a War Hero, it was just banthacrap?”

“Oh, oh no. That is very real. You were an incredible general for the Alliance, performed all sorts of daring deeds and heroics, but you resigned your commision the moment your orders got in the way of helping out a friend.” She shook her head, “it always drove me wild, how loyal you are.”

“Good wild or-”

“Both. You’re a very infuriating man.” She grinned at him, that same uncomfortable smile she’d used when flirting outside the ship. Picking up on his discomfort, Leia looked down at her drink and slid it in Han’s direction. “Please take this away from me. I probably shouldn’t have any more. When I get drunk, I get… well I get flirty, and despite looking _exactly_ like my somewhat appropriately aged and very dearly missed husband, you are _way_ too young for me.” She guffawed. “Now there’s a thing I never would have expected to say, ever. You’re thirteen years my senior, you know.”

Han blinked. “Wait, what? So that means back in the time I can remember you were-”

“Five years old. Unless… I know you were always real spotty on age when you were younger, before you picked an official one for your records. What year is it for you?”

“Six ay eff ee.”

“Ah. Well my name day isn’t too long after Empire Day, so there is no question that I’d be six then.” The thought clearly amused her, causing her to laugh more. “I’m six years old!”

“Is that why you were encouraging me to stay with Qi’ra? Because you’re so much younger than me?”

“I’m not so insecure that I think you being with a different person before you met me could ever make our own relationship less stable. We’re so much stronger than that. In fact I know the inverse is true. I need you to date that woman, and the other person you were in a relationship with between her and I, so you can learn the ins and outs of what being in a relationship is actually like. Otherwise you’re just going to be too insufferable to ever be with, and then where would we be?”

“I dated someone between you and Qi’ra?”

“On and off for a while. He’s still a close friend.”

“You… you really don’t want me to seek you out then?” Han studied her, looking for some indication that she was lying, putting on a face because she thought she had to. She seemed sincere. “I mean if me waking up in my own time is actually possible and all that nonsense, you wouldn’t… I dunno, want me to find you?”

“Please don’t. Could you imagine? A homeless nineteen year old gang member who smells like a sewer showing up at the palace insisting that he’s going to marry the six year old heir to Alderaan’s throne? Han, you’d get yourself arrested!”

“Wait. Did you just say _heir to the throne_?”

“I did didn’t I. Drinking with you really was a terrible idea, I have no idea why I did it.”

“So you’re a queen? Or… were a queen before the Elder Houses booted you? Queen of one of the richest places in the entire kriffing galaxy?” How the kriff had he gotten together with someone so far out of his league? Just meeting her for a brief moment should have been impossible, much less marrying such a powerful (and absurdly wealthy) figure.

“No, I never actually held that title. I was just a princess, and a senator and a general as well of course.”

She acted like those titles were nothing, waving a hand dismissively. Didn’t she get that he was barely even a person in the eyes of society? “Just a princess!” He exclaimed. “ _Just_! Like that isn’t a big karking deal all on its own!”

“Well, when you grow up expecting to be a queen one day, it certainly feels that way. Like a reminder of what you lost every single Force-damned time someone uses your title.”

What she’d _lost_? What was that supposed to mean? “Wait, what happened?”

“I… I really shouldn’t say. I mean it Han, I want you able to experience life without the burden of this future weighing you down.”

“I’m asking because I _want_ to know.”

“And I am not answering because you really _don’t_. Please, Han, you have to enjoy your youth.”

“I can’t forget what I’ve seen here. The things you already told me.”

“You think I don’t know that? Finding the exact right balance of what you can and can’t know is damn impossible Han. But I am trying, so help me out for once and just shut up! Ugh, you are always like this.”

Han was working on a good response when Leia’s comm beeped. She pressed a button making it stop. “Can’t anyone take care of things for themselves?” She groaned. “I can’t do everything all the time.”

Her action only silenced the thing for a brief moment, before the comm started to beep again.

She picked it, and pressed it on, practically growling into it. “What’s the emergency? Didn’t I make it clear I wasn’t to be disturbed?”

A woman’s voice, bursting with emotion, was audible on the other end. “General… I’m sorry… it’s just… it’s Hosnian, Ma’am they-”

Leia cut the woman off. “I’m sure whatever Korrie said can wait, Lieutenant Connix.”

“That… that’s the thing Ma’am. Commander Sella’s dead. As is everyone else.”

The stubborn lines of Leia’s face smoothed out, giving way to an expression of deep profound terror. “Explain, Kaydel. Now.”

The response came in bursts, the woman on the other end of the comm clearly shaken by the news she was delivering. “It’s the First Order. They… we’re getting reports that say… they blew up the entire Hosnian system, ma’am.”


End file.
